CHAPTER III


Now I ought to tell you that many things in this story were only told
me quite lately, for at first I would not help Nino at all, thinking
it was but a foolish fancy of his boy's heart and would soon pass. I
have tried to gather and to order all the different incidents into one
harmonious whole, so that you can follow the story; and you must not
wonder that I can describe some things that I did not see, and that I
know how some of the people felt; for Nino and I have talked over the
whole matter very often, and the baroness came here and told me her
share, though I wonder how she could talk so plainly of what must have
given her so much pain. But it was very kind of her to come; and she
sat over there in the old green arm-chair by the glass case that has
the artificial flowers under it, and the sugar lamb that the padre
curato gave Nino when he made his first communion at Easter. However,
it is not time to speak of the baroness yet, but I cannot forget her.

Nino was very amusing when he began to love the young countess, and
the very first morning--the day after we had been to St. Peter's--he
went out at half-past six, though it was only just sunrise, for we
were in October. I knew very well that he was going for his extra
lesson with De Pretis, but I had nothing to say about it, and I only
recommended him to cover himself well, for the sirocco had passed and
it was a bright morning, with a clear tramontana wind blowing fresh
from the north. I can always tell when it is a tramontana wind before
I open my window, for Mariuccia makes such a clattering with the
coffee-pot in the kitchen, and the goldfinch in the sitting-room sings